n my insurance. Markel, quite by haphazard as I then
thought, was introduced to me just before we left San Francisco on
our way to New York. On the run across the continent we became very
friendly. Naturally, I told him my story. He played sympathetic good
fellow, and offered to lend me fifty thousand dollars on a demand note.
I did not want to be involved for a cent more than was necessary, and,
as I said, I hoped from day to day to make another strike. I refused
to take more than ten thousand. I remember now that he seemed strangely
disappointed."

Again Wilbur stopped. He swept the moisture from his forehead--and his
fist, clenched, came down upon the desk.

"You see the game!"--there was bitter anger in his voice now. "You see
the game! He wanted to get me in deep enough so that I couldn't wriggle
out, deeper than ten thousand that I could get at any time on my
insurance, he wanted me where I couldn't get away--and he got me. The
first ten thousand wasn't enough. I went to him for a second, a third, a
fourth, a fifth--hoping always that each would be the last. Each time a
new note, a demand note for the total amount, was made, cancelling the
former one. I didn't know his game, didn't suspect it--I blessed God for
giving me such a friend--until this, or, rather, yesterday afternoon,
when I received a telegram from my manager at the mine saying that
he had struck what looked like a very rich vein--the mother lode.
And"--Wilbur's fist curled until the knuckles were like ivory in their
whiteness--"he added in the telegram that Thurl had wired the news of
the strike to a man in New York by the name of Markel. Do you see? I
hadn't had the telegram five minutes, when a messenger brought me a
letter from Markel curtly informing me that I would have to meet my note
to-morrow morning. I can't meet it. He knew I couldn't. With wealth in
sight--I'm wiped out. A DEMAND note, a call loan, do you understand--and
with a few months in which to develop the new vein I could pay it
readily. As it is--I default the note--Markel attaches all I have left,
which is the mine. The mine is sold to satisfy my indebtedness. Markel
buys it in legally, upheld by the law--and acquires, ROBS me of it,
and--"

"And so," said Jimmie Dale musingly, "you were going to shoot yourself?"

Wilbur straightened up, and there was something akin to pathetic
grandeur in the set of the old shoulders as they squared back.

"Yes!" he said, in a low voice. "An